


Autumn

by pinky_heaven19



Series: Seasons of Love [2]
Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2554886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinky_heaven19/pseuds/pinky_heaven19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer came and went. Autumn brings with it many things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autumn

It was going to be the first time in history that I was actually excited about autumn coming. For the past few years autumn had been a grim reminder that difficult times were ahead. That we would soon freeze and be forced to be indoors, although it wasn't much warmer inside.

This year was different. This year I was embracing the cool weather and what came with it. 

What came with autumn was sharing hot cups of coffee or tea sitting on the kitchen table. It was lending my scarf to Roger to have it returned with his smell. It was walking idly through the streets of the city and feeling comfortable in the clothes we owned. It was making cheap meals like soup and actually enjoying them. 

What autumn brought was Roger sprawled on my bed between my legs with his chin resting on my stomach as he talked about what musical equipment he would buy if he had the money. What came with it was me sinking my fingers into his hair, feeling it surprisingly soft considering we always bought the cheapest brand of shampoo. 

– … buy an ukelele and join me.

– What? - I asked, confused.

– You didn't listen to a word I said, did you? - he asked, but he didn't sound mad.

– I guess I spaced out a little, sorry.

– It's okay. I know all this musical talk bores you – he said, and the sparkle I saw in his eyes as he crawled up my body and kissed me was a sure sign he was about to no good. Actually, he was about to something great.

– It's not that, I just don't understand it much – I said between kisses.

– Just like I don't understand when you talk about all your filming stuff – he complied, and I was losing focus on the conversation again with the way his lips went to my jaw and neck. His stubble made me shiver. 

– Good thing we both agree this is not boring – he purred in my ear. That hoarse voice from his traveled all the way down my spine. And even though those plaid sweat pants were hideous, I had to admit they did a great job on letting me feel his cock pulsating into hardness.

– This has been the most fun part of my day, actually – I admitted. Being with him had been the best part of my days for year, but only now I had the courage to say it out loud and not sound like a creep. My old college professors were right, context _is_ everything. 

– I say we make it even better – he whispered, and I felt his hands on the hems of my sweater, about to pull it up. And that was when we heard the familiar beep reminding him of his AZT. He completely ignored it, moving his hands up my body.

– Hey, stop – I said, cutting off a very pleasant kiss.

– I thought you liked this.

– Your AZT. Go take it.

– It can wait a while – he said, and tried to kiss me again. I turned my face away. 

– You know you have to take it as close to the correct time as possible. 

– But I've got an empty stomach – he was starting to whine – I'm gonna be nauseated and we won't continue this. 

– Please, Roger...just go take it – I said, not wanting to drag it any further. 

– Fine – he said, and I almost regretted kicking him out of bed when that wonderful weight over me was gone. Almost.

– Thanks – I said with a smile. 

– You know, if I were a girl and this, my birth control, I would never get pregnant. 

– I would make sure of that, too. 

– Not to brag, but I personally think my genes would make a very beautiful child – he said, stopping at the threshold. 

– Go – I said, and he winked at me before going to the kitchen. 

I sank my head into the pillow, feeling very relaxed. Roger was fine. Had been fine for months, actually. He'd tested for anemia six months ago and things were good, as good as they could be, anyway. 

I listened to the sounds of him opening cupboards and the fridge, looking for something to eat. He'd probably find some crackers, but not many. We both desperately needed more money for groceries – and everything else, really – but even that wasn't bothering me right now. 

How could anything bother me when I had him as my boyfriend? It was so funny to think of him like that, and yet, it was true. I had been so insecure about his decision when we shared that first kiss. I was expecting him to come to me and say this was all a big mistake and that he wasn't comfortable being with a guy at all, and things would be over. But that never happened. 

In fact, quite the opposite happened. Maybe he was just as needy for human contact as I was, but he was unusually affectionate with me. He had no qualms about touching me anywhere, and I discovered he was much more open about about his sexuality than I'd initially thought. 

Which made things more complicated as I thought they would be. In my mind we would kiss, and....that was it. Like two teenagers who are horny but can't do anything about it. At the time it didn't cross my mind that we were both adults and alone in our own flat. We'd done much more than I ever thought we would do, even though Roger had become more and more paranoid about infecting me. I was sure the things we were doing were completely safe, but I understood why he was always worried. 

I had also rediscovered the wonders of dry humping. 

– There, mom. I took it – he said, and climbed back on the bed, laying on his stomach next to me. 

– Don't call me mom just because I care about you.

– Is daddy better? - he asked, mischievously, with a grin. 

– Actually...

He giggled.

– You know I really don't mind it. You're the only person that cares more about me than me – he said, and he couldn't have been more right.

I stroked his hair and he closed his eyes, sighing deeply.

– Feeling OK?

– Yeah, just thinking if this obsession of yours with my hair is something new or not.

– It's a very old obsession – I said with a smile, grabbing handfuls of it in between my fingers.

Long minutes passed without us saying a word, and I thought he was sleeping before he spoke.

– Tomorrow is halloween.

– That's right. I almost forgot.

– We should do something – he said, opening his eyes and sitting up.

– Like what?

– We're too old to go trick or treating, I guess.

– And no kid is going to come kocking on our door, that's for sure. We could walk around at night, looking at the halloween decorations.

– Great. We could also do a small séance, what do you think?

– Like in communicating with spirits?

– Yeah. I read somehwere that people who are closer to death can talk to spirits easily, so I'm pretty sure I'll get as a one-on-one with something. 

– It's not funny, Roger – I said, suddenly hating him for reminding me of what I feared the most. I moved to get up from the bed and he held my arm.

– Come on, I was just joking. Am I not allowed some dark humour in the eve of halloween?

– Not about this... - I mumbled, and he pulled me close.

– Sorry. No more jokes about me dying, although you have to appreciate my effort to make it something light. 

– Why can't you be a normal person and joke about something that is actually funny?

I could see in his face that he realized how upset I truly was.

– Okay, so here goes. Knock-knock.

– Oh my God – I said, rolling my eyes.

– You were the one to suggest something funny! Play along. Knock-knock.

– Fine. Whos's there?

– Wolves say. 

– Wolves say who?

– Wolves say happy _howl_ -ween.

And he actually howled when he said that. He was smiling widely, waiting to see my reaction, and I felt my lips turning into a smile even though I was still mad and trying to look like it.

– I don't know why I'm laughing, it wasn't funny at all.

– I made it funny with my howling skills – he explained, and I caught him off guard when I kissed him. 

The next day he was the one to catch me off guard when he entered the apartment holding two plastic bags in his hands.

– Hey, what are those? - I asked, but it became clear as soon as he entered that they were pumpkins. Huge, ripe pumpkins.

– I thought we could so some carving tonight – he explained, putting them on the table.

– Where did you get these?

– I stole them.

I looked at him with wide eyes.

– I'm kidding. Jesus, I can't crack a joke in this house – he said, but his smile hadn't faded a bit – I got them for a couple of dollars from this man who was selling them on the street. 

– This is gonna be fun. I think I was 14 the last time I carved a pumpkin.

– You're gonna have to teach me – he said, rolling it around the table.

– You've never done this before? 

– Nope. My mother was always too busy working. I did go trick or treating, though. My aunt took me with my cousins. 

– What did you dress up as?

– I'm not gonna say.

– Why not?

– It's embarrassing.

– It can't be that bad.

– It was.

– Tell me.

He sighed and looked at me.

– A lion.

– You used to dress up as a lion? - I said, the mental image too cute for me not to smile.

– Every year. When I was young I had this onesie that I quickly grew out of. Then my mother adapted my clothes and made me wool manes. 

– Do you have a picture? I have to see pictures! - I was too excited about it. 

– No, thank God for that – he said, looking for knives in almost empty drawers. 

I started to lay down some newspapers and we got to work on the pumpkins. I was scooping seeds and goo as Roger was happily drawing a scary face in one of the pumpkins. I let him have his fun as I washed out the seeds for us to salt and toast them later. 

With a quick pointers on the easiest way to cut the thick skin, we started to carve. I was looking for a demonic look while he was clearly carving out the classic toothed smile with triangle eyes and nose. His concentrated face was the same as when he was writing a song and having a hard time. Even though I was looking at him most of the time, I was done before him. 

– This is harder than I thought – he said, theatrically wiping imaginary sweat from his forehand. 

– This part is tricky – I said, fighting the urge to get the knife and do it myself – be careful not to cut your fin-

– Shit! - he exclaimed, bringing his hand to his mouth to suck on his finger.

– ger.

– Son of a bitch – he cursed, and I could see blood on his lips.

– Is it deep? - I asked, grasping his hand and puling it away from his mouth.

– No! Are you crazy!? - he said, pulling away so harshly he almost lost balance. 

– Roger, I just wanna see it.

– No, get away from me – he said, taking a few steps back – You must have completely lost your mind – he said, getting some newspaper and wrapping it around his finger before walking to the bathroom.

– I don't have any open wounds, nothing would have happened – I assured him, watching the water running from the faucet turn pink before hitting the drain.

– You bite and pull on the skin around your nails – he said, and our eyes met on the mirror – You don't take this as seriously as you should. 

I hadn't seen him so serious in a very long time. I nodded and said nothing. Now that the cut was clear I could see it wasn't so bad. It was just bleeding a lot. That wasn't good. For anybody, not only people in his condition.

He grimaced as he washed it with soap. I looked through our madicine cabinet, which contained almost nothing besides his AZT, and miraculously found a band-aid. He wrapped it around his cut index finger and closed his eyes, leaning on the sink. He was sweating. I touched his shoulder and he leaned back on me. 

– Sorry I screamed at you – he said.

– I understand. 

– No, you don't – he said, and walked out of the bathroom. I followed him as he got the bottle of bleach from under the sink and the knife he was using. He poured bleach straight onto the table where the knife had been. That was going to stain the wood, but I said nothing. He went to the bathroom and used more bleach on the knife before carefully rolling it with the towel he'd used to dry his hand. He dumped the bundle in the bathroom trashcan. It was one of the only three towels we had.

– We could have just washed that, you know – I said, and he glared at me. 

– Better safe than sorry – and he poured even more bleach all over the sink. 

I could see he was starting to freak out, and I knew I couln't encourage that obsessive behavior, but I didn't know what else to do but hug him and take the bottle from his hand. He resisted at first.

– There's nothing else to clean anymore.

– There's still me – he said – I'd have to drink a few gallons of it. 

– You can bleach your hair, that's all I will allow – I said, and I felt him hug me tighter.

– Nah, those days are over – he said, and I saw the beginning of a smile on his face. I leaned in to kiss him, but he turned his face away.

– What? You're not going to let me kiss you anymore?

– There was blood in my mouth. I don't know how long it will take for it to be completely clean again.

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it, and finally said.

– Use some mouthwash. I'll be in the living room, waiting for you so we can take a walk.

– I'll be out in a minute – he said, and I went to the living room and fell on the couch. It took him more than several minutes, but I didn't call out to him. I knew he needed some time to get himself together again, and so did I. Maybe I had been a little reckless, but I didn't want him to be paranoid about it.

When we stepped outside the night was deliciously cool. We walked for a good couple of hours, admiring the halloween decorations in the stores. At some point we were holding hands, which was something we never did, but I enjoyed it, and I think he did, too. 

Things were back to normal as we laid down to sleep later that night, and I laid on my side, facing him. He smiled and I move forward to kiss him. He moved his head back but I put my hand on the nape of his neck and pulled him closer.

– It's okay... - I whispered, and he let me kiss him. I did it long and deeply. 

– You're too brave for your own good – he said. He was wrong. I was terrified, almost as he was. 

– I'm not. Maybe I'm just stupid.

– Probably – he agreed.

I closed my eyes, feeling his hand cupping my cheek.

– Thanks for being here for another halloween with me.


End file.
